A Spoonful of Sugar
by WednesdayA 3567
Summary: Grif needs some professional help after being run over by a tank... So a guardian angel is sent to help. Nobody knows though, least of all Grif, that she has the information to turn their entire way of life upside-down. The question is whether or not to use it. Characters: Grif, OC, and the rest of the gang. Rated T only for the usual RvB language.
1. Chapter 1

**Name**: Nicole Smith

**Age**: 24

**Rank**: Freelancer medic in training

**Assignment**: Blood Gulch Outpost One

**Armor**: primary white, secondary red

**Setting**: season 2 episode 15-ish

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Grif heard an unfamiliar female voice call from outside.

"Oh, god ... my head," he groaned, ignoring her.

"Seriously?! It's already nine o'clock! These soldiers should already be up! If I got up at five every morning at training for no good reason..." she grumbled. "Hello?! Is anyone here?! Or are you all just sleeping?"

Grif heard the now familiar sound of Sarge's shotgun cocking.

"And just who might you be little missy?"

"Thank god, someone's awake. I'm medic Nicole Smith, sir, reporting for duty."

Grif struggled to open his eyes. His left was more sluggish than the other.

"Ah, you must be the one command sent. I'm Sarge, the one in charge around here. You'd better be more competent than that other scumbag medic!"

"I certainly hope so sir." Things had finally come into focus for Grif. His armor was off, and he could see it in a pile on the floor. He was currently laying on their kitchen table, which was the closest to a medical one Red Base had. The bright fluorescent light was blinding him, and he had to fight the urge to squeeze his eyes shut again. He swung his right leg off of the table and attempted to sit up. Bad idea. Grif immediately saw light and dark spots dance through his vision and had the sudden urge to barf. He shut his eyes again and took deep, slow breaths as he tried to lie back down. By now, that Nicole person and Sarge were coming in; him telling her what had happened yesterday.

"So I took all them parts I had left over from private Simmons and shoved 'em in Grif here."

'Well, that doesn't sound good,' thought Grif as he tried to process what Sarge had just said.

"Alright, um, let me take a look and see what I can do," Nicole said. Grif braved the outside world again as he opened his eyes to see a white helmet with the standard orange visor hovering over him.

"Oh, Christ. Don't you at least have first aid training? Those stitches have gotta be infected! What did you use?" Nicole berated Sarge.

"Some old yarn I found at the bottom of my tool chest."

"Great. Just fabulous. Umm, could you get me the morphine injection, medical thread, and hydrogen peroxide?"

"The what now?"

"Just bring me my bag please," she said with a sigh. Then Nicole turned back toward Grif and took on a gentler tone.

"Hey there, soldier. You took quite a beating. How're you feeling? I'm going to fix you up really well now, and I promise everything will be just fine."

"Have I died?" Grif finally spoke up. Looking back, the question felt stupid, but it was he first thing on his mind. He sure as hell felt as though he had.

"No, thankfully you made it through the night. You're still among the living." Grif could hear the smile in her voice.

"I'm just going to give you some painkiller right now, ok? You might feel sort of high, but you'll probably just go to sleep. Alright, ready? Just a small pinch... and there you go." Everything started to go blurry again, and his eyes started to close. The pain began to dull. Grif even smiled as he drifted off to drug induced sleep.

When Grif woke up the next day, Nicole was still standing over him. She held a big, brown, square bottle in one hand and a cotton ball in the other. Now though, her helmet was off and Grif could see his savior's face.

Her luscious dark wavy hair hung over him, and her beautiful bright hazel eyes were fixed on a point on his shoulder. The stitches, he guessed. She had a soft round face and a small, finely shaped nose. Her face was worried, and she looked tired from last night's surgery. She started dabbing his shoulder with the cotton ball again, and it stung and fizzed where it touched him. Nicole was focused on her task, and didn't realize that he had woken up.

"Hi there," he said, startling her. She jumped a little.

"Oh! Good you're awake. How are you feeling?" she asked, putting away her supplies.

"Like I got run over by a tank," he moaned.

Nicole smiled drily and said, "I'm afraid that's exactly what happened, private. I had to do some organ transplants, then I had to do it again when Sarge helped. You should be alright after a few months of recovery." Nicole smiled at Grif, and it seemed genuine. He returned the smile and laid back down, trying to get a feel for his injuries.

"Wait... transplant? So whose organs do I have now?" he wondered aloud.

"I believe his name is Simmons? He sort of had some 'leftovers' from his cyborg surgery and offered those," she replied with a cringe, "Pretty much what is now your left side used to belong to him."

"So will half of me look like him? Does it?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"No. Surprisingly your skin somehow survived, so externally you look the same, just a few scars."

"Thank god for that." Grif tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down.

"I'm afraid we'll have none of that, private. It'll be awhile before you're back on your feet, and then you'll need a lot of help. You should know that not just organs were transplanted, but bones and muscles and nerves as well, the whole shebang really."

"Oh."

"Yeah, sorry. Nothing for it really except bed rest. From what I hear though, that won't really bother you too much. I'll have to take out the stitches soon too."

"Oh," he mumbled, "can I have some Oreos? I'm starving." Nicole cringed at his request.

"Um, did I forget to mention you'd be on a liquid diet for a few weeks?"

"What?! No Oreos! Aw shit..." he mumbled.

"Hey, that shouldn't be your biggest worry! You should be happy to be alive! You were pretty close to the edge when I got here buddy!" Nicole raised her voice. She had never yelled at a patient before! Then again, she'd never performed a full-blown surgery late into the night either.

"Sorry," she said, "guess I just need some coffee."

"Hey, you call that yelling? You should hear Sarge when I don't clean the damn Warthog," he said. "You go get some coffee. I'll be fine; feelin' better already. See if you can steal some of Donut's girly coffee, you'd probably like it."

"Thanks, private. Just shout if you need anything, I'll be back," she said, doing a perfect Terminator impression. The grin ruined it though. Grif decided he would love to have that smile directed at something he did.

"Hey, miss Smith?" he called at her retreating back.

"Yes, private?"

"You don't have to call me that. My name's Dexter."

"I'm Nicole."

There was that perfect smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I realize I forgot the disclaimer last chapter. So, in case anyone thinks otherwise, Red vs. Blue belongs to RoosterTeeth. The only things that I came up with are Nicole and the fluffy plot. So yeah... Enjoy!**

The next few months were grueling for Grif. He never knew just how hard simple 'recovery' could be. Luckily, Nicole decided to stay to help him out a bit more.

An extra bunk was added across the hall from their's for her, and actual doors with locks were installed in the showers, along with a long list of things of that sort.

Grif was healing, but slowly. He had given Nicole quite a scare at first when she thought his body wouldn't accept the new materials, but she had fixed it somehow in the end. Grif wasn't entirely sure, but he could have sworn he saw a jar of Aloe Vera on his bedside table. He was on a lot of painkillers though, and couldn't quite make it out through the blurry haze. She put the jar away too quickly for him to tell.

Eventually, painfully, Grif started to walk again. First just around the room, then the base, and even the entire canyon. Nicole holding his hand the whole way.

"Hey, Dexter?" she asked one day. They were sitting on the soft green couch down in the basement. There was a carton of Oreos between them, and Nicole turned around to face Grif fully, crossing her legs kindergarten style in front of her.

"Hmm?"

"What are you guys fighting for anyway? You and the Blues, I mean?"

"Oh, no one really knows I guess," was his very eloquent answer. He split open another Oreo. Gosh, it was good to eat those things again. Pure heaven.

"What?! You just decided to fight to the death for no apparent reason? Sounds like my brother and I."

"Well, no, I'm sure there's a reason. But I was drafted into this whole mess, and didn't really know anything about the situation."

"Ever think to ask someone?" she said, her voice loaded with sarcasm.

"Are you kidding?! Sarge and Simmons would bite my head off even more than they already do!"

"What about Donut?"

"Seriously? He doesn't even know what team he's on half the time, let alone why we're fighting."

"Oh. I guess you have a point," Nicole said turning back to her Oreo, seeming to drop the subject. Then she continued. "What if you found out there actually wasn't a reason?"

"What! Of course there's a reason! I mean, who would give a bunch of idiots like us military equipment and lock us in a freakin' box canyon? No one would do that just for fun. Nah... I'm betting the Blues did something to the Reds they didn't like, or vice versa." Nicole sighed once he finished his answer.

"Yeah, I guess... Anyway, you're not all idiots. I-I mean, I don't think y-you're an idiot," she stuttered as her cheeks turned pink.

"Thanks, Nicole. That probably makes two of us in the entire universe." They sighed in unison.

"Aw, that's sad... ," she paused, "Now give me another one if those Oreos! Don't hog em'!" Nicole smiled at him, and he gladly returned it as he handed her another cookie.

Simmons came down into the basement and leaned against the doorway as he said, "Okay guys, the Blues are gone. You can come up now; we totally kicked their asses!" Every time Church led an attack, or Sarge did, Nicole and Grif decided to barricade themselves underneath the base where they were currently sitting, with the emergency Oreo stash. Grif stayed in the basement because he still wasn't one hundred percent, and Nicole did because she wouldn't be much help in a fight. And, hey, who doesn't like a good Oreo?

"Was anyone hurt?" Nicole asked Simmons.

"Nah," he said, cracking his knuckles. He was still tying to understand why she spent so much time with Grif. Yeah, he had been injured and she was the medic, but Simmons had undergone major surgery too. "They always run right before I can get to the machine gun on the Warthog. They're still not that brave, even with that stupid tank. You know, Ms. Smith, they have their own medic, too."

"Yeah, but from what I hear, he's no good."

"Doc pretty much sucked," he agreed, "You're a heck of a lot better. Man, if you hadn't gotten here, I think we'd be missing a certain yellow soldier," Simmons said.

"It's orange, moron!" Grif finally looked up from his carton of Oreos at the intentional insult. Simmons laughed and Nicole smiled as Grif glowered at the maroon armored soldier. As the laughter died off, Simmons asked Nicole something that might be considered stupid, but he decided to take the risk.

"Do medics really have to be nice to everyone?"

"Well, yeah," Nicole shifted uneasily and her back stiffened. It was as if she were avoiding something. "I didn't pick a side, uh, politically. I decided to stick with you guys just 'cause you're nicer to me." Nicole subconsciously looked at Grif as she said that last part. Simmons, seeing that he had no more chance to impress the single nice girl for miles, playfully saluted goodbye and trudged back upstairs.

Grif and Nicole decided to stay where they were for just awhile longer. The couch was really comfortable, and the Oreos were double stuffed. Nicole turned around so her back was against Grif's good shoulder and swung her legs over the armrest of the furniture. He looked down at her as she pulled apart another cookie and licked out the cream like a little kid would. Her hair spread out over his orange t-shirt, and he idly twined his fingers through it. They had become comfortable friends like that.

"Nicole?"

"Mphm?" she mumbled; her mouth was full of Oreo again.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Dexter, we have dinner together every night. I think it's Donut's night in the kitchen too. Should be good."

"That's not quite what I meant though." Nicole looked up, and saw the true meaning in his eyes and lopsided grin. He looked like a twelve year old asking out a girl for the first time.

"Oh!"

"It's ok if you don't want to, I-I understand..." he trailed off as his face reddened.

"No, I mean...," she took a deep breath as she looked for confidence. "Grif. I would absolutely love to have dinner with you tonight," she sensed the anxious tension in the room relax. Their eyes and smiles met as each realized they had totally and hopelessly fallen for the other.

Nicole could practically hear the sweet love story song in the background as Dexter gently wiped some Oreo dust from the edge of her pink lips. Her smooth chin fit his strong hand perfectly. She could sense their eyes go further than just eye contact; she would probably call it soul contact. Grif, unsure where to take the moment and not quite confident enough, paused. Nicole made the final move as she leaned into him, connecting their lips and causing sparks to fly.

A/N: Dying with feels! Hope you liked it, I haven't decided whether to continue and make an actual plot or just leave it at heartwarming fluff. Also I'm looking for a beta reader for another project I'm working on; anyone out there? Any wise old author willing to take me on as their protégée? Let me know in the comments! Remember, reviews are love!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Everything but Nicole and the plot belong to Rooster Teeth, as you all know. This is just pretty much how Red Team feels about the new member and her relationship. Enjoy!**

Grif and Nicole must have been made for each other.

He loved absolutely everything about her. He loved the way her hair would get really frizzy in the morning if she didn't brush it out the night before. He loved the way her eyebrows would go up almost lopsided whenever he did something that might not have been the best idea. He loved how she was able to correct Simmons' math without making him mad. He loved that she could not only tolerate Donut, but get along with him, taking some of the pressure off of the guys. He loved all her references to old 2010's movies that no one but her remembered. He loved her long toes, the small scar above her eye, how sweet her smile was, absolutely everything. He even loved the flicks to the back of the head he would receive after a snarky comment. Those gave him an excuse to turn around and pull her in for a playful kiss.

Nicole adored Dexter. She loved the chocolate brown of his eyes, especially how soft they would become when he looked at her. She loved that she didn't have to pretend to be the picture of health around him. She loved the sarcastic remarks that tried to get her attention, and often succeeded. She loved how they were able to just relax and enjoy a cold beer together. She loved the way he would twine his fingers through her hair, sending chills up her spine. She loved the way he always tasted just a tiny bit like smoke, more like a campfire than a cigarette. She loved that he understood a lot of her old references, or pretended to. She loved how his brows would furrow and he would back away when she started to talk about math with Simmons. She loved that he would lie about how the food tasted when it was her night in the kitchen; she knew it was awful. Most of all though, she loved being cared about.

Simmons was sort of jealous. Ok, maybe a lot. He just didn't get it! Why would any girl want to go out with Grif of all people? Grif was just a fat lazy slob. His only talent was tricking other people into doing his work for him! Nicole was so sweet and nice, wouldn't she want a guy more like Simmons? Someone who could be sweet and smart and awesome? Ok, maybe his self-esteem was a little high, but so what?

Simmons wanted to be happy for them, but he was too mad. He hated seeing them together. He hated that she would bestow that dazzling smile on undeserving Grif instead of him. He therefore cherished the moments now when he got some math wrong; it let him talk to her. He hated that they were on a first name basis. Of course, everyone called Nicole Nicole. It just made more sense somehow. But no one called Grif Dexter. It was weird. Especially the way she said it. She made his name sound as though he did something valuable for the team. As if. Simmons was pulling double duty so Grif could 'recover' whatever that meant. He was pretty sure that Grif was just fine now, too. He was able to pick Nicole up well enough. He only acted as though he was still hurt when Simmons or Sarge asked when he'd be back on the battlefield.

Just then the two lovebirds came outside where Simmons was leaning up against the Warthog, steaming in his angry reverie. They didn't help his mood any. Nicole was on Grif's back, piggy-back style. Her hair was flying through the slight breeze and her eyes were squeezed shut as she began to laugh contagiously. Grif looked up at her and joined in as he started to run. Since when did Grif run? Neither were wearing their armor. They never did anymore. Just shorts and a t-shirt or tank top all the time. Simmons guessed you didn't need any armor if you never took part in battles. They ran around the base and then went back in through the back door. Simmons heard them laugh and collapse on the couch in the common area. He turned back to cleaning the Warthog (normally Grif's job) as he tuned them out.

Donut loved that Nicole and Grif were dating. It was so sweet! He could tell they were perfect for each other since she joined the squad. Nicole was organized, professional, and ready for anything all the time. Sometimes though, she needed some help relaxing. Grif was nice enough, had no trouble relaxing, and could sometimes be a slob. They needed each other! Quite frankly, Donut was surprised it had taken them so long to start going out. Donut was truly happy Nicole had come. Especially now that he finally had a friend on Red team. He had been just the tiniest bit worried when they started dating that Nicole would be one of those high school bitches that got a boyfriend and said 'adios!' to her friends. Turned out, he had no reason to worry. If anything, she was an even better friend now. She was constantly in a good mood, and Grif wasn't too grumpy either. Donut had never seen Grif so happy, actually. It seemed he was always smiling, and he was nicer to everyone. Even Sarge. Yep, Donut loved seeing them together.

Grif and Nicole came galloping by just then and Nicole waved to Donut from her perch on Grif's back. Donut was behind the base, weeding their vegetable garden. He dropped his trowel and returned the gesture, a huge grin on his face. He could see the look of pure joy on her face as she wrapped her arms around Grif's neck. He could see the look of near worship on his face as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her elbow. Donut sighed contentedly as they veered back into the base and fell onto the couch.

Sarge had noticed something was different between Nicole and the dirtbag. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he wasn't sure whether or not he liked it. Since it involved Grif, it was probably negative. He was always up to no good, just like those dirty Blues! Granted though, the minor junior private negative first class had been a better part of the team lately. Even though he wasn't on the battlefield, which he hadn't been that great on anyway, he had started to participate. He's gone to their so called 'staff meetings' and hasn't complained as much. He's stopped leaving food scattered all throughout the base. Overall, he's just been a better soldier. 'Pretty darn far from good though,' Sarge reminded himself. 'Well, if that medic does her job right, and helps Grif do his job better, what's it matter to me? Fraternizaton rules and guidelines are always bent a little sooner or later. Speak of the devil, here he comes now. '

Except it was the two of them, having a grand time running around like a bunch of little kids. They didn't see Sarge; he was sitting in the shade cleaning his shotgun. He started to fake-aim it at Grif; it wasn't really loaded yet, unfortunately. Then it dawned on him. They were actually 'going out.' Not that it bothered Sarge, he didn't really care. As long as they acted like normal soldiers when Command came by to inspect... Ah, who was he kidding? Command never had and never will come by for any inspection. He smiled as his shotgun sights followed them into the base. Sarge wasn't softhearted, no, far from it! But they were sweet together...

He finished cleaning his gun and got up to see what progress Simmons was making on the Warthog.

A/N:I know, I can't write Sarge that well. Anyway, I promise the plot begins to shine through in the next chapter. I just thought this would be something sweet to write. Since I've only gotten three reviews total so far, three more for the next chapter? Reviews=love


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Everything still belongs to RoosterTeeth. Except Nicole. And the plot. :)**

**Alright, I know I asked for three reviews on the last chapter. I've only gotten two. But I finished writing this and I really wanted to post it in the hopes I could get some more constructive criticism. **

**A****nyway, here's chapter four. Three reviews for the next one. I mean it this time! Enjoy! :)**

One morning Grif woke up earlier than he normally did. The sun had just begun to rise, and the sky was gray with the ethereal light. None of the other guys were up yet; he could still hear Sarge snoring. But Grif knew there was no way he could go back to sleep. He got like this sometimes, don't ask for an explanation. Grif swung his legs over his bunk and tried to hop down as quietly as possible. He hated having the top bunk.

Grif snuck into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. He leaned up against the counter and absentmindedly ran his fingers across the fading scars on his upper arm. He smiled faintly as that made him think of Nicole. He tiptoed down the hall to peek into her minuscule room. They hadn't had much space to begin with, so when she showed up they had to convert the unused closet into a room for her. There was just a curtain across the doorway to save space. Grif pulled it aside, expecting to see her there still asleep. But he saw an empty cot instead. His brow furrowed and he went back to the kitchen, looking out of the hall window as he did. Grif relaxed as he saw Nicole sitting under the only tree to provide any shade during the day. She was wearing her favorite cowboy boots and a soft purple blouse with a beautiful flowing skirt spread out over the grass. God, she looked like a fairy sitting there in the morning-mist. Grif's smile widened as he pulled out a second coffee mug from the cupboard in the kitchen.

"Want some company?" Nicole jumped when she heard the voice and looked up to see her favorite person on the planet.

"Oh! Gosh, you scared me, Dexter!" Grif grinned and held out a steaming mug of coffee. He was in orange pajama shorts and a red t-shirt. His hair was rumpled, and he still had that stumbled-out-of-bed look.

"I added some sugar, just the way you like it," he offered.

"Thanks, Dex. Come sit with me," she said, taking the coffee and patting the ground next to her.

"What were you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just watching the sunrise."

"I've never really seen it here before," Grif said.

"Oh, really?" Nicole said, her eyebrows raising in that cute way Grif loved. "You're in for a great morning then."

Grif leaned back against the tree and sipped his coffee. They sat like that for awhile, just enjoying the coffee and the company and the orange and pink sun coming over the cliff. The fog and mist spread out the sunlight, causing rays of sun to expand like tendrils of heaven. Nicole sighed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Grif gave only a satisfied sigh in response. He could have sat there all day, but the sunrise was only a few minutes long. The two stayed like that a little longer, as if hoping time would reverse and the sun would go back down and come back up again.

Nicole eventually broke the silence and turned to face Grif. She put her hand in his.

"Dexter, I have to tell you something." Grif immediately became nervous, because that was a breakup line he'd heard too many times.

"W-what is it, Nicole?" She looked him in the eye and squeezed his hand.

"This whole war is a lie."

Grif chuckled nervously and asked, "What, you mean, like, it isn't really happening?"

"No. I mean there's no point to it. There is no Red versus Blue. Someone made it up. They're using you. They're using _us_."

"Gee, I never pegged you for a conspiracy theorist, Nicole," he said, trying to laugh it off. "Maybe you just need some more coffee..."

Nicole's face remained dead serious as she continued in an urgent and hushed manner.

"Dexter, I'm not kidding. You guys are just being used for training. Command is full of shit."

"We already knew that didn't we?" he said with a light laugh.

"Dexter, have you ever noticed that all the action centers around that Freelancer? Every time Tex comes, that's when everything happens. Project Freelancer may be mercenaries for hire, but they use Red and Blue bases for training scenarios. There isn't even a real Red Command! It's the same idiot for both Blue and Red! He thinks it's _so_ funny that you guys think you're fighting a real war. Vic's come up with some of the situations to put you through, and I tell you, he has a sick mind." Nicole shivered with a combination of the thought and the cool mist on her arms.

"Wait, how do you know Vic? You're not making any sense Nicole. I know it's probably not for the greatest cause but-"

"Dexter, you have to believe me," Nicole cut him off, "Your official title is _Simulation Trooper_! You can't go back out there." She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to let him hear the panic in her voice.

"Ok, I think I get what you're saying. You just don't want me to go back out on the battlefield tomorrow," Grif began to smile. He thought he had it all figured out, and she had made this up so he wouldn't get hurt or killed tomorrow. It was sweet.

"Right! Well, no, I mean, yes, that is true, but it's not what I'm trying to say! Dex, you being scheduled to fight again tomorrow is what gave me the courage to tell you. I would understand if you got hurt for a worthy cause. I wouldn't like it, but I would understand. It wouldn't even have to be worthy, just something you believe in! But I can't let you get hurt again for _absolutely no damn reason_!" Nicole began to cry, and she bit her lip to try and keep it at bay. She bent her head, letting her hair fall into her face. "No goddamn reason," she repeated weakly. Grif reached forward to lift up her chin and pull her hair back. He traced a tear stain down her cheek with his thumb. Grif looked into her eyes and saw the deep, sad desperation in them. He also saw the tender, protecting love that he didn't know could be contained in one human being.

"Ok. Alright, I believe you. But how do you know all this?" She turned away and took in a shaky breath. When she looked at him again her eyes had changed. They had given something up, a burden. Her hazel eyes didn't look brighter though, they looked steelier. As though she had prepared herself for this.

"Because I'm one of them."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I wasn't expecting to reach my goal so soon. Every one I get totally makes my day; I'm just so happy to see that people have read and liked my writing! :D Since I'm selfish, I am afraid that I'll ask for another three reviews for the next chapter. Evilness is fun! Mwah ha ha ha! O'Malley?! Get out of here! Sorry about that, now on with the chapter!**

_Previously in Spoonful of Sugar: Nicole just revealed she's from Project Freelancer._ _"I'm one of them."_

* * *

"What do you mean?" Grif asked as gently as he possibly could. He rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of Nicole's hand.

"I belong to Project Freelancer," she near-whispered. Grif heard the most lost, broken spirit there could possibly be in the world. She sounded hollow.

"Nicole, nobody owns you. I promise." Nicole collapsed onto his shoulder. All the steeliness and confidence she'd had only moments ago was shattered. Her own shoulders began to shake and Grif could feel her tears bleed through his shirt. His grip on her tightened, and he whispered into her ear. "Everything will be okay. I'm here for you." She pulled away from his chest and looked up at him. Nicole gave him a smile. Not the one that blew him away. Not the one that made him glad to be alive. Not the smile that belonged on her face. She looked so heartbroken, so alone. But she wasn't alone. She had him now. Nicole leaned up into him and gave him a kiss.

"I know."

After she had composed herself, Nicole decided Grif needed to know how it had all happened. He might be angry afterwards, he might be confused. He might decide he hated her. But he deserved to know. Nicole began to tell her story, speaking rapidly, never truly looking Grif in the eye.

"When I was sixteen, I got into a pretty bad group of people. You know, drinking, drugs, all that shit. Once when I was eighteen, a party got busted by the cops. Everyone scattered, as you would probably expect. Naturally, so did I. But I had been farthest from the door, and the worst runner. I was pretty drunk too. So I was left alone there when the police came in. Like I said I was drunk, so I decided it would be a good idea to fight back. Yeah, smart move. I actually did sort of okay, and got rid of two of them. The third cop stepped over them and simply kicked me in the chest. She actually picked me up by my shirt collar and slammed me against the wall! Crazy, right? I guess you've gotta remember I was in trouble for underage drinking, illegal drug use, assaulting two officers and resisting arrest." Nicole ticked the charges off on her fingers. "But I kicked her in the chest, and she dropped me. I started running again. Then she, ah... she tazed me.

"Once she slammed me against the hood of the car and handcuffed me, she said 'That was some pretty good fighting back there. You could get better with training.' I was confused and asked her why I would want to train to fight cops. 'Cops? Nah, you would be fighting bad guys. I could help you out of this little situation you're in. If you agree to join this program that I'm a part of, all your police records would be cleared.' So we started talking as she filled out my arrest form back at the jailhouse. It sounded like a pretty good deal to me. I mean, what teenager would pass up the opportunity to become a badass space warrior? So she tore up the police form, unlocked my handcuffs and we shook on it. Then she said, 'By the way, I'm Church. Lily Church. But you decide to join me and my buddies and I'm Carolina to you.' And so began my time with Project Freelancer. They called me Agent Lousisana." Nicole sighed, and silently begged Grif to look at her. She touched his knee, looking for some sign of recognition. His head still hung down. He seemed to be studying his hands intently.

"Dexter, you have to understand. My mom had been killed in a car accident a year before, my dad lost touch with the world. I hadn't heard from my brother since he left for the war. I... I just didn't have anywhere to go." Nicole continued, tried to pretend she was just telling a random story and not _this_ one. She looked down at her own hands as well and continued.

"Training was tough, but I went through it. I got better, just as good as Carolina said I could be. I was even on the leader board for awhile. I practiced for four years before I was allowed on the field. I killed... a-a lot of people. I was awful. Looking back, Dexter, it was scary. I don't know who that girl was!

"Then Connecticut told me what she had... I guess discovered is a good word for it. Dex, I had thought we were the good guys. I thought I was fighting for the right cause. I was never put on any mission that let me get close with the enemy, so I never got the opportunity to understand what they saw. I was a scout, and I simply killed anyone that got in my way. After Connie told me the truth, I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't fight the good guys. So I refused to.

"They put me in the infirmary, thought maybe they could fix me. I would get 'better,' go train some more, and be just fine. Unless I had to fight living people. I could only do simulations. Whenever they put me up against, say... York, I would just freeze. I couldn't attack people anymore. I only fought out of self defense. I became a disgrace to the Project.

"They couldn't fire me. They took my status, my new identity, my freedom. But they couldn't fire me. Because of their own doing. You see, they had wiped me off the map. As far as the rest of humanity was concerned, I didn't exist anymore. So I started training again. To be a medic this time. Ha! I guess even the best of the best of the best can get hurt every now and then," she laughed drily as she mocked her past.

"When Sarge called Command for a medic, they sent me. This was supposed to be a quick training exercise. The Director didn't expect you to be so badly hurt. As far as they know, you're still in critical condition."

Grif hadn't said a single thing the whole time. The only signs he ever gave that he was listening was an occasional grimace or cringe. When Nicole finished, she looked down at her lap. Grif was staring at the sky, at a loss for words. They had both maneuvered into a cross-legged position, facing each other. When he finally looked back at Nicole, his face was unreadable.

"I understand if you hate me now," she said. This finally caused Grif to look at her, and his head snapped up abruptly.

"Hate you? Nicole, why would I hate you?"

"I'm a horrible person. I don't deserve you," she mumbled.

"Nicole, you're a wonderful person. Admittedly, I am pretty awesome, but you're stuck with me, deserving or not," he smiled and tried to coax one out of her too.

"But all those awful things I did! All those innocent people I killed! The Project will be after me as soon as they realize that a) I lied, b) I know the truth, and c) that I told you the truth. And now I've dragged you into all of this. They'll send someone to get me. If they know that you know, they'll come to get you too. I'm sorry. I never should've told you."

"First of all: are you trying to convince me you're a bad person?! What's up with that? Nicole, I love you, and I don't think that will ever change," Grif finally told her how he felt. He suppressed a grin, and tried to continue as though he hadn't just made a potentially life-changing statement. "Secondly, if they want you, they'll have to go through me and all the rest of Red team. I'm glad you told me, Nicole. I can help you get through this. It'll all be ok." Grif's voice was calm and composed while Nicole's was on the edge of hysteria.

"But, Dexter! You're supposed to fight tomorrow! How am I supposed to let you step back into that? We... we should leave," she said. Her voice became quiet as she made the realization. Then it picked up again with excitement. "Oh my god! That's it! We can leave! We can catch the monorail out of that little town over the cliff and make it to the transport going out of the capital!" Nicole's whole face lit up, and Grif could practically see the wheels in her brain turning.

"Nicole-"

"We'll leave tomorrow morning, before anyone wakes up. It's about five miles not counting the cliff climb, so we'll just need a day's rations. I'll make up some names for the monorail station, and-"

"Nicole-"

"And we can just go from there. The transport comes and goes once a month, so we can rent a room someplace and hang low for awhile. The ship goes to Earth ... what do we do then?"

"Nicole, wait-"

"You know, I've always wanted to go to New York, yeah, that's a good place to get lost. We'll change our names, or maybe we won't have to, depends on how badly Freelancer wants me back," she was just talking to herself now, and wasn't paying any attention to Grif's attempted interruptions.

"Nicole, wait. I can't-"

"Oh my gosh! This could actually work! Oh god, I love you Dexter!" She had stood up, and now leaned down to give him a quick kiss. "I'm going to go back inside and start packing. We can't let the guys know what we're doing, and they might ask questions if we're not back soon. Love you!" She started to practically run back to the base, and waved back at Grif as he began to stand up as well. She looked herself again, happy and ready with a plan.

Grif sighed as he brushed the dust off his shorts and picked up the two empty coffee mugs. He looked towards the sun to guess that everyone would be up by now, probably making breakfast. He was glad she had told him everything, but he wasn't so sure about the plan. Grif decided he would talk to Nicole later, when she had calmed down a bit. He trudged back to the base, contemplating what he was going to say. A sudden smile broke out across his face as he made the delayed realization that Nicole had said she loved him. _Twice._ Maybe this morning hadn't been so bad after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow! I reached my review goal in just what, 24 hours? Awesome! Thank you so much! Keep it coming people! :D Xcal, thank you so much for your offer! I'd rather keep things online though. Nothing personal, I'm just paranoid. You can private message me whenever you have an idea you think would work well, or just want to point out something I could've done better. TunelessLyric, thank you for pointing that out. I was wondering if anyone would pick up on that. That's always been a weakness in my writing. Make sure to point out anything else you see, as I am always trying to improve. Hopefully I was able to make this chapter a bit better in that area. Thanks! **

**Enough chit-chat! On with the story! Everything belongs to Rooster Teeth, as usual.**

* * *

"Hey, Nicole. Whatcha doing?" Simmons peeked into her room. Nicole's back was to him but she looked busy, reorganizing her clothes maybe? They were all spread out on the cot and he could see the edge of her duffel bag underneath it. But why would she be doing that now? It was late and getting dark outside.

"Oh! Hi Simmons! Nothing much, just uh.. rearranging! Yeah, just cleaning up a little," she smiled nervously as she whipped around to answer his question.

'_Oh god, it's Simmons. Okay, Nicole, you can handle this. Just don't tell him what's going on. You can't drag anyone else into this. You shouldn't have told Dex in the first place, but the plan _will_ work. It has to now. Maybe if I talk fast enough and act busy enough, he'll go away.'_

Nicole cleared her throat and kicked her bag back under her cot.

"Um, okay then. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yep! Everything's just perfect with me! How about you?"

"I'm fine. You're the one who's acting strange. I saw you and Grif out there this morning. Were you guys fighting? You looked upset."

'_Was he spying on us? No, of course not, Nicole. He just looked out the window. You were sitting there out in the open for anyone to see. What was his question again? You should probably answer it.'_

"What? Oh! No, I wouldn't call it fighting. We were just uh, talking about some touchy subjects, I guess. Dexter's a great listener."

"Oh really? That's too bad... I mean, that you were upset! Not that he's a good listener. That's a good thing. Always good to have a good listener around, right? I can be a pretty okay listener myself, too. Just, if-if Grif doesn't work out, you know?"

'_Oh god, did you really just say that? Richard Simmons, please tell me you didn't just say that.'_ The look on her face said he did. _'Why do you always get like this? It's not supposed to be this hard! Okay, walk it off, you can recover from this. It's just another mission. Complete the objective.'_

"Excuse me? Dexter and I are doing just fine, thank you very much," Nicole said, her back straightening and her tone becoming indignant.

'_Abort mission! Abort! Abort!'_

"What?" asked Simmons. His mind was shutting down, he couldn't focus anymore. Had she been paying direct attention to him? '_Crap.'_

"What?" It was Nicole's turn to be confused again.

"Sorry, I... Lost my train of thought."

"Oh, um, well, you were..."

"Yeah, I just, um, yeah. What were we talking about?"

"You said you were a good listener?"

"Yeah, um, I'll just... ahem... I'll just go now."

"Sure, okay. It was nice talking to you?" Simmons beat a hasty retreat from the doorway of her room/closet, getting halfway tangled in the curtain as he left. He bent his head and rubbed his neck in defeat as he stumbled away. Sure, the one time he doesn't wear his armor is when he mortally embarrasses himself. The lack of helmet exposed his rapidly reddening face.

'_Well, Dick, that could've gone better_.'

'_Did Simmons just try to hit on me?'_

Simmons bumped into Grif on his way down the narrow corridor.

"Hey, Simmons, what's up?"

"Huh? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Why does something have to be up with me? I wasn't trying to hit on your girlfriend!" Simmons blurted out. He face flushed yet again, now matching his hair exactly, and he practically sprinted past Grif and down the hall.

"Wait, what did you just say? Simmons?! What the hell?!" Grif continued down the hallway to find Nicole standing in the middle of her room looking rather stunned.

"Hey. Nicole. Did he just, uh, try to hit on you?"

"I honestly have no clue what just happened. He could've been asking me out, insulting you, or looking for a pen. That was the weirdest thing ever. Of all time." Nicole shook her head, as though trying to shake the utterly confused expression loose from her face. Then she smiled to herself when she realized she had inadvertently quoted an old friend. "So yeah... that happened."

"Okaaaaay then. Remind me to kick his ass later."

"Dexter! I'm sure he was just trying to be nice...? Or something," she sighed and turned back toward her cot to continue packing. She talked to Grif as she did so, though her voice was considerably more whisper-esque. "So, have you started packing yet? I figure we'll want our armor for the five miles, but then we might have to go casual once we get to town. It would seem pretty suspicious. So you'll probably need most of your civvies; we're gonna be hanging around the capital for awhile before the transport arrives. If I remember correctly, it comes at the end of every month so we have about two weeks. Do you think we should have fake names and everything?" Nicole paused, and Grif realized that now was the time to talk to her. He took a deep breath and blurted it out._ 'Oh, please don't be upset...'_

"Yeah, Nicole, about that... I don't think we should do this." Nicole spun on her heel to look him in the eye. Actually, she had to spin around and look up, but that's not the point.

"What are you talking about?! This is the only way out!" Her voice was shrill, and she anxiously looked down the hall to see that no one had heard. Nicole reverted to her previous hushed tone. "We have to leave. They'll come after me, and I don't want you getting hurt! By the hands of Simulation troopers _or_ Freelancers. Though Freelancers would probably be worse," she added as a side note. "I know it seems like a coward's way out, but I can't think of anything else. Unless you have a better plan?" She crossed her arms across her chest and donned the universal look of female impatience.

"Well... no uh, not exactly, Nicole. I haven't come up with a better plan." Nicole relaxed. "But, uh..." she stiffened again. "You see, Nicole. I guess the thing is. I- I don't know if I can leave. It doesn't feel right. I feel like I owe it to these idiots, one way or another, you know? I think we should tell them." Nicole sighed and sat down heavily on the cot, making it squeak slightly. She knew Grif was right. But it would be so much harder to conceal the absence of a whole unit, that just happened to contain her, from Vic. And consequently, the Director. And if she told the rest of Red team, the chances that the Project would find out would be multiplied that many times.

Grif realized that he had been all but tearing his fingernails out as he confronted Nicole with his moral dilemma. He quickly dropped his hands when he saw the resignation on her face. She knew that running away was the wrong thing to do. Grif sat down next to her and rubbed her knee. "We can't just leave without an explanation, Nicole."

"But if we tell them the truth, they either come with us or get attacked by trained killing-machines! I think we can pretty much cross off the latter option. And Dexter, it's so much harder to run away as a group of five rather than two! Vic will notice if the whole squad disappears, and probably alert the Director the moment we climb the cliff. But if it's just the two of us, we might make it all the way to Earth before he finds out! And then they'd have one heck of a time trying to find us. I just don't see how we could tell the guys and get away with it." Nicole looked at Grif, her eyes searching partly for answers but mostly just reassurance. He sighed and his eyebrows knit together as he tried to think of an answer.

"You're right. But the thought of going AWOL just feels awful. I have a promise to keep. I signed up for the duty, and now I have to do it. I just have another year out here; couldn't we hold on until then?"

"As soon as you start fighting again, I won't technically be needed anymore. I'll have to go back to the _Mother of Invention_, or maybe another simulation base. But I would never see you again. And I don't think I could stand that." The atmosphere became soft and tender as her bottom lip began to tremble for the millionth time that day. '_Come on Nicole! Get a grip!' _Grif put his arms around Nicole and pulled her up against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist as she nestled her head in the gully between his neck and shoulder.

"Neither could I."

They sat like that awhile, pretending to think, but more like wallowing in self-pity. Nicole enjoyed his warmth, both physically at that moment and personality wise. Before she met Dexter, she'd had no clue how much she could love someone. She hadn't been exaggerating; she knew now there was no way she could last very long without him.

Grif tried to focus on the soothing weight of Nicole's head on his shoulder. He loved her, he knew that without a doubt now, but he couldn't abandon his team. It went against everything he had been taught as a kid. The one time he had abandoned anyone was when he left Kaikaina back in Hawaii. And he paid the price for that now whenever he thought of her. Grif just wasn't that kind of guy. You could call him a coward for not having the guts or you could call him incredibly brave for sticking with the war once he committed to it. Maybe a little of both. He knew though that if Nicole didn't leave for Earth, she'd be trapped in Project Freelancer for the rest of her life. He hated that thought even more than never seeing her again. If nothing else, she needed to be happy. God damn it! There had to be a better way out of this!

Grif was brought out of his reverie when he felt Nicole's head topple to the side. Her hand slipped from his chest and ended up in his hand. She had fallen asleep.

Grif buried his face in her hair and whispered, "I have to get you out of here. I love you too much."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Howdy, y'all! Long time no see! I know, I know. I blame writer's block. I'll try to work faster next time. Okay, quick note: To all you perfectionists out there, yes. I know the Parabola of Mystery met at 0600. But, come on, I'm the author here, and I decided to tweak it a little. Sue me! Secondly, I discovered I work better under a deadline. No total guarantees, but I'll need 4 reviews for the next chapter. Thirdly, this chapter is dedicated to Agentmontana and our new friendship. Here's t****o the future! Lastly, this is a short one, but I hope you enjoy anyways :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing (as usual)**

Once Nicole had fallen asleep, she was out for the night and a good part of the next morning. Nearly a week of internal debate whether or not to ask for help with her situation had cost her many nights of rest, and it was finally taking its toll. She didn't wake up when Grif slowly lowered her onto the cot and tip-toed out, or at Sarge's wake up call for the whole base, or at the bang of Simmons shooting his foot as he put on his armor, or at the smell of pancakes and bacon as Donut made breakfast. Nicole had been known to sleep until noon as a teenager, and it seemed she was reverting into that glorious habit.

Yet somehow, she awoke when Grif gently pressed his lips to hers at eleven thirty. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled. Her voice was soft; groggy.

"Hi there." Grif then matched his voice level to match hers, speaking gently and with a smile in his voice.

"Hey baby. We're gonna leave pretty soon, okay? When you get up, I want you to go down to the basement and wait for us, alright?"

"Where are you going?"

"We're just going to meet the Blues. There isn't supposed to be any fighting, and there probably won't be. You know us; everyone here is too lazy to want a fight."

"But what if something happens?"

"I promise, nothing will happen. We're just going to talk."

"Then why're you in your armor?"

"Because I don't think Caboose can tell us apart if we aren't color-coded."

"Hm." she hummed in agreement. "Okay then. I guess I'll just be here. I'll get up in a few more minutes..."

Grif smiled wider and rumpled her hair tenderly. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He began to walk out of her room when her voice stopped him.

"Dexter? Just promise me you'll be careful."

"Don't worry about me. Just wait for us here, okay? I love you." He turned around again, thinking that would satisfy her.

"You didn't promise." She could be stubborn sometimes, especially when sleepy.

"Alright, Nicole. You got me. I promise I'll be as careful as can be. Now I'll be back soon."

"Okay, sweetie. Love you too." Nicole turned back on her side and faced the wall. Her brain was slowly waking up while simultaneously trying to go back to sleep. Why was it so bright out already? It's still early...

She turned, and looked at the little alarm clock. Crap. Eleven thirty?! She needed to get up! Ugh, she needed to get up...

Nicole grudgingly swung her feet onto the floor and sat up. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. As she stood and began to walk out, she tripped over her duffel bag that was sitting obstinately in the middle of the floor demanding attention.

_Oh, that's right. I was packing last night. But... but Dex said no. We have to come up with something else._

Nicole leaned over to lift her bag and put it back on the shelf. Oof! It was heavier than she remembered. She hadn't finished packing; it shouldn't carry that much weight. Instead of the shelf, she hefted it onto the cot and unzipped it, looking for the reason of the sudden weight change.

Nicole found all of her clothes neatly folded and her beloved paperbacks safely tucked in between.

_What? I know I didn't finish packing. And I can never fold that neatly! So who...?_

Her forehead creased and she rubbed her hands over her face confusedly. Nicole finally decided she needed some coffee and brain food to start the day that was, in actuality, already halfway over. So she shuffled into the kitchen to see if Donut had laid aside any leftovers for her.

After some really great bacon, re-heated pancakes and good, strong coffee, she was ready to take on the afternoon. About halfway through her second mug of caffeine, Nicole understood that Grif must've packed her duffel bag for her. But they had decided to come up with a new plan. Why would he pack?

Their wake-up conversation also came back to her, and she remembered the basement. So she ran down the stairs, her soft slippers slapping against the cold concrete. Nicole folded her left leg under her as she sank onto the couch where she and Grif had shared their first kiss.

No sooner had she gotten comfortable than she heard yelling from outside. She ran to the window up by the ceiling and stood on tiptoe to try and look out. She couldn't see anything, only the usual sand and dirt. She would have to rely on her hearing.

There was Sarge's voice; he said something about it being a good day? Well, he does like fighting. Nicole knew Simmons was probably backing up Sarge's statement as Grif complained. She knew her team so well that she could visualize what was going on in her mind's eye despite not being able to see. Then she heard Sheila and Lopez. What were they doing? Hadn't Lopez run away? BOOM! Was that Sheila? Who was she firing at? Wasn't this only supposed to be a talk? Nicole heard everything go to hell, really, after that. There was yelling, shooting, and general chaos. Mostly yelling. Especially Sarge. How had things gotten so out of control so fast? Maybe she should have her med supplies ready. . .

Her internal question was interrupted by a somewhat high-pitched voice calling out to everyone in general. Nicole hadn't heard that voice since the week after she arrived, when he tried to hit on her. Bluck, that had been weird. What was his name again? Nicole couldn't remember, but she heard his yells clearly.

"Wait, everyone! Stop fighting, it's all a lie! Red is blue! Blue's red! It's all the same! Stop fighting, stop fighting! I said there's no red versus blue, it's all the -ARGH! Son of a bitch!"

_Crap._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hi everyone! As usual, I really appreciate your reviews! They're so wonderfully nice! Just remember, con-crit is just as amazing if not better. I think I'll want 5 reviews for the next chapter and possibly about a week to write it. I want to make it great for you guys. Hopefully, if my writing is any good, this chapter will establish some emotion in you readers. Let me know! Thank you all so much for your continued support!**

**I own nothing.**

_God, I can't believe this is happening. What the hell is going on out there?_

All Nicole had been able to hear was yelling, gunshots and the hum of vehicles. Occasionally she could pick out individual voices, but only if they were especially loud for whatever reason. Like when Tucker (_Yes! That was his name!_) had made his discovery and let the whole world know. There was her biggest problem. Nicole thought she'd been in trouble telling Grif the war was a lie? Telling _one single person_ the biggest secret of Project Freelancer? Well, Tucker had just told all of Blood Gulch.

Nicole hopped on one foot as she frantically pulled on her jeans and bumped against the wall. If anyone needed medical help out there, she didn't want to risk taking too long to reassemble her armor. And it definitely sounded as though at least one person needed her help. Just as she was stuffing wads of medical gauze into her field bag, she heard a voice that was coming from. . . above her? Was someone on top of the base? Wait, were two people up there? There were certainly two voices. One was gruff and manic-sounding while the other was high pitched and somewhat clueless. They seemed to be having a conversation with both each other and the people on the ground. The gruff voice even started ranting a little at one point. She could hear only them clearly.

"Here I am, you fools!" Nicole heard a few mumbly responses from the ground. Then the clueless voice came in.

"Thanks! I lettered in track in high school! It was the least directly competitive sport I could find!" Then came a response in what sounded like Grif's voice.

He must've said something insulting, for the gruff voice called back, "_You_ suck! And now I make my escape with my metallic hostage, never to be seen again! Unless I want to be seen, in which case if I see you before you see me. . . look out. The universe will be mine! Move it brown bot! Into the abyss. . . !" Nicole heard a short, sharp hum from the teleporter, and all was quiet. Even the red and blue fighting had stopped.

She ran outside and quickly noted her whole team was on their feet and looked unharmed. Blue team; not so much. Then she turned and craned her neck to look up at the roof where the voices had come from. Nobody there. Just one glowing-green teleporter.

Well. That had certainly been odd.

After a visual double check that most everyone was alright, she heard Church call out something about a truce as the two teams met by the base. As Church moved, Nicole could see Tucker laying on the ground behind him. She inwardly groaned. Why did that pervert have to be the one needing her help? After a two-second internal debate, however, she ran over to help him. Thank goodness, he was already unconscious. She quickly hacked into his personal computer's data log, which conveniently included vitals, and found his only serious injury was a broken rib. The rest were just bumps and bruises. Nicole released his helmet from the rest of his armor and laid it aside to shove some dissolvable painkillers into his mouth. She could worry about fixing his rib later, when he was awake. She distractedly put his helmet back on and stood up to walk towards the rest of the guys.

They were arguing about the true meaning of irony, and whether or not their current situation qualified. She came back within hearing range in time to hear Caboose say, "I think it would be ironic if we were all made of iron."

_Yeah. Right, Caboose. That's it_.

As the rest of the Gulchers began a long winded debate, Nicole shot Grif a look that very clearly said _we need to talk_. So they both walked off to the side, the rest of the team too absorbed in their argument to notice.

"Are you okay?" was Nicole's first and somewhat frantic question as she pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just like I said," he smirked. He just loved being right. It happened so rarely.

"Just like you said there wouldn't be any fighting?"

"Yeah, well, you uh, you know how Sarge gets. And then Sheila and Lopez were there for some reason. . . Weren't the best circumstances," he mumbled.

"Yeah, well. I'm just glad everyone's alright," Nicole looked down at her feet for a few moments before looking back up at Grif's blank visor. She hated that thing, yet loved the man behind it. "I've gotta bone to pick with you, mister. I tripped over my bag this morning. It was totally packed. What's up with that? I thought you said we couldn't leave, Dexter. I thought you were too honorable for that." She made air quotes around the word 'honorable' and was obviously half mad that he'd changed plans yet again, half smug that he'd apparently listened to her.

That look was immediately dropped when Grif rubbed the back of his neck and answered sheepishly, "Yeah, well, I did say we couldn't leave. And I haven't changed my mind. We can't. But you can."

Nicole's face went through a million different expressions nearly within a nanosecond. Surprise, disbelief, anger, sadness, more disbelief, anticipation, concern, you name it. It finally stuck with a mix of surprise, sadness and disbelief.

"What? But but, Dex. I couldn't leave you. No. We went over this. No. 'Cause - because. . . no."

Grif suddenly became resolute and he took off his helmet as he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Nicole. Listen to me. You _can_ leave, and you will. I won't let you stay here, not if the Project is after you. You need to stay on the move, change identity. I can't let them find you. And this is the perfect opportunity, don't you see? All those idiots over there," he nodded his head toward the separate gathering, "they want to chase O'Malley down. If the rest if us leave, Vic will probably assume you came too. Wherever it is that we're going. And it'll give you a head start; time to get lost and all that stuff. While they're looking for us, you can get away. It's the perfect chance. Now or never, Nicole." Grif had to fight to keep it together during the last of his declaration, and his eyes were blinking a bit faster than normal. It didn't help when he saw the lost look on Nicole's face staring back at him.

"But, but Dexter. I - I can't go without you. You know that. We're a team right? I thought we were stuck together."

"Oh, god, yes. Of course, Nicole. I love you, nothing will ever change that. That's why I'm asking you to leave. If anything were to happen to you, either because of these morons or the Director, I couldn't live with myself knowing you'd had the chance to escape. That's why you have to go. _Because_ I love you." Nicole looked down at her feet again as she tried not to cry. _Soldiers don't cry,_ she reminded herself. Yet that didn't stop the heat from gathering in her cheeks, her throat from closing up, or the silent tears from running down her face. Because she knew it was true. To keep Grif safe, she needed to disappear from his track record. Disappear from his life.

Nicole reached behind her neck and lifted the chain that hung around it. She bent her head and removed it from her neck while simultaneously coming up on her toes. She reached over and behind his head to place the chain around his neck instead. Nicole wrapped her arms around him as the dog tags rattled to rest between his warm chest and cold armor. Opposites meeting in the middle through the new medium.

"So you won't forget me," she whispered as she placed her head in the smooth corner just where his neck and shoulder met.

"Wouldn't be possible," he mumbled back into her now tear-stained hair, "Not ever."


	9. Chapter 9

All credit goes to Roosterteeth

**A Spoonful of Sugar: Chapter Nine**

_"At the end of the day, we must go forward with hope and not backward by fear and division." -Jesse Jackson_

* * *

Their last hours weren't nearly long enough. Nicole was suddenly thankful that the Gulchers could argue about anything, for they were so busy deciding on the true meaning of irony that they didn't notice Grif and Nicole weren't there. The two shared their last Oreo, their last movie reference, their last time on the green couch together. So many lasts.

Nicole reminded herself that they would find each other. 'Once this is all over,' Grif had said. Once all this crazy shit is over. But that could be just another year, when Grif's tour is up, or it could be never. What if he gets caught up in something that shouldn't be physically possible? Knowing these crazy soldiers, they would make it possible. What if he was hurt, and she wasn't there to help him? Or what if she was found out? What if the Project found her before Grif could? There were so many things that could keep them apart.

Then again, they could just find each other in twelve short months and live happily ever after. Or so Nicole tried to convince herself. She told herself everything would be just fine. She wouldn't let them stay apart. If Grif couldn't find her, she would find him. Right now, she was just going to focus on the moment. Everything would be fine.

They were lying on the couch together, pretending this was just another day. Grif had taken off his armor, opting for his usual orange t-shirt and jeans instead. Nicole had her head on his chest, feeling him slowly inhale and exhale. She traced the Red Army emblem, trying to ingrain the surprisingly soft texture of his shirt into her memory. She smiled a little as she remembered that Donut was on laundry duty, and had probably used that fabric softener he had. Where he got it, nobody knew, and nobody asked. She was going to miss Donut too, and Simmons. Probably even Sarge a little. They had all come to be her friends. What would they do without her? They were always hurting themselves. Nicole didn't think they even knew where to find the band-aids. Well, they'd be going to a new place too, and the band-aids in the bathroom cabinet wouldn't help too much. She would have to throw them in Grif's bag before he left. Maybe it would help them out, even just a little. Nicole hadn't realized how much these people meant to her. Here she was, about to start a whole new challenge in life, worrying about band-aids of all things.

She laughed a little, her smile breaking the tear stains that had trailed down her cheeks.

"What's so funny?" Grif asked, smiling down at her. Oh, how he was going to miss her smile. . .

"Just promise me you'll take the band-aids with you when you leave," she laughed. Grif laughed too; he loved how she always took care of them. He knew she was thinking of all the many ways they might hurt themselves.

"Don't worry about us. We always make it through. Hell, we've got a ghost on our team now!" he said, referring to Church.

"You'll also have a child-like team killer with you," was her reply, referring this time to Caboose.

"Glad I'm not blue then! I don't think he'll even understand why he's working with the Reds. As long as Church doesn't tell Caboose to help us. . . We'll be fine." Nicole could hear the reassuring smile in his voice without having to look up to see it.

"Just- be careful, okay?"

"I've got my zombie plans ready," he deadpanned.

"Guess I should get working on mine, then! I came up with one when I was ten, but I don't think it would stand well on it's own anymore," she grinned. These were the conversations she would miss. The ones that wouldn't make sense to anyone else.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Aw, Nicole, you need a plan! When the zombies infected with the alien virus take over, what're you going to do? You _definitely_ need a plan." He nodded his head slowly, reminding her of an old high school teacher. Though he had been lecturing on Shakespeare. Bit different.

"What do you suggest, oh Wise One?" she asked teasingly. She grinned, and kissed him on the cheek. Grif heard the sarcasm, but chose to ignore it. What he couldn't ignore was the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth when she kissed him.

"Tell you what. We'll meet in Canada. Like, the capital or something. Then we can drive into Alaska, 'cause it's so cold there that the zombies-"

Grif was interrupted by the intimidating sound of heavy metal boots on the concrete steps. He looked up to see Simmons leaning in the doorway, just like he had those months ago, (had it really only been a few months?) before Grif and Nicole had even kissed yet. Simmons somehow managed to look smug while wearing full Spartan armor. Only he could.

Simmons could see he was obviously breaking up a moment as he came down the stairs, and made his footfalls a little heavier than necessary. He leaned up against the doorway, as he was so fond of doing, when Grif looked up and his face paled slightly. Simmons supposed it was only because his stupid conspiracy theory had been interrupted. Though he looked awfully serious when he saw Simmons. . . so did Nicole. Suddenly Simmons didn't feel so smug, rather guilty actually. It was as if he were delivering bad news. The teleporter is fixed; isn't that good news? They can follow O'Malley now. On to new adventures and all that stuff. . . right? The silence Simmons' appearance had created quickly became awkward. He cleared his throat.

"Um, yeah. The teleporter is fixed and stuff. So I guess we're ready to go. If you guys want to get your armor on . . . We're all up top when you're ready." Simmons began to trudge back up the stairs, feeling their eyes on his back and the dread of his message. He felt irrationally bad for telling them. Why? Didn't they all hate this box canyon? That had been the hatred that kept the team together. Their common interest. Why wouldn't they want to leave?

He looked over his shoulder to see Grif and Nicole staring into each other's eyes as they sat up. They must have thought Simmons had already left. Nicole looked as though she was about to cry, and Grif was trying to look strong. You'd think they weren't ever going to see each other again. Simmons sighed and turned back around as they kissed. He supposed he'd just have to accept it. After all, there was nothing he could do, right? That didn't mean he didn't hate seeing them together. He just got tired of being angry.

Nicole and Grif got up, and began reassembling their armor. They moved as slowly as physically possible. They didn't speak, but looks said it all. Nicole held it together and didn't cry, but her eyes were still red and puffy. She looked lost. Grif was trying to focus on only her. He wouldn't let himself think of what would happen after. She was tough and he knew she'd be fine. Her hair shone in the late afternoon light and she seemed to glow. She even wore sadness well as her eyes glistened with tears waiting beneath the surface. Why was he letting her go, again?

* * *

Everyone was waiting when they came up to the Red base roof. There they were lined up, all the people she had come to know and even like. Donut, Sarge, Simmons, Church, Caboose, Sheila. Nicole could feel her throat tighten up, and raised her chin as she resisted the urge to cry yet again. She heard them talking to each other, but she couldn't focus. It didn't sound important to her anyway. Nicole held onto Grif's gauntleted hand with all her might. She didn't want to let go.

Suddenly, Grif took off his helmet and turned to her. Nicole took her's off as well. He took both of her hands in his as he looked down at her resolutely.

"Nicole. Listen. I want you to leave before we do. There's a path up the cliffs that's easier than any of the others," he pointed it out to her. "I want you to go that way. Once you get to the monorail station, leave and don't look back. Maybe come up with a fake name for all this. Lay low at the capital and on the transport. Do you still want to go to New York? It really _is_ a good place to get lost. Go ahead and get yourself an apartment or something. Here's some money. It should help at least a little." He pressed a sizable amount of money into her hand. She didn't look at it, just stuffed it in her armor's storage compartment. She looked down at her hands in his and blinked rapidly. Grif's tone softened.

"Nicole, I love you. And I know we're going to be apart for a long while. I - I didn't think I'd ever have to ask this, but. . . Will you wait for me? I'll understand if you don't want to. I know you might want someone you can talk to, and trust to always be there and protect you. I know I won't always be able to do that. But, Nicole I-" Nicole nodded slightly, and shut him up with a kiss. It was her response.

It hardly felt necessary, but she answered his question when she pulled away. "Dexter, I will wait for you every day of my life if I have to. Because, well, guess what? I love you too." She hugged him tightly, never wanting to let go. Grif closed his eyes as he rested his chin on top of her head. They savored the warm embrace, both pairs of eyes closed in thought, for a long time. But it still wasn't long enough.

"Alright, you two! Enough with the sappy goodbyes; this ain't World War Two!" Sarge broke into their reverie rather roughly. Grif was about to respond indignantly when Simmons cut in.

"Actually Sarge, I think you mean World War Three."

Then Donut chimed in. "Nuh uh, Simmons! World War Two was when just the men had to leave and do all the dirty work! Women were allowed in World War Three."

"It don't matter! The point is, these two sickening lovebirds _will_ see each other again, even if it's not sooner rather than later. And we gotta go, before those dirty Blues manage to break the teleporter again!"

Nicole could tell the _real_ end was coming, and she began to panic. She turned to Grif (they had been pulled to just holding hands during the history debate) and took him by the shoulders, looking him firmly in the eye and speaking rapidly.

"Alright, listen up Dexter. Now it's your turn. There's a possibility that you'll meet some exotic and or interesting women on your little adventure. I don't know what the hell you'll be doing, but I hope you'll keep yourself out of harm's way and remember me. You have my dog tags now. But will _you_ wait for _me_?"

"Nicole! I thought that was understood! Good god, of course! I'd have to be crazy not to! I wouldn't ask you to wait and then go behind your back! You can take it for granted that if you're ever thinking of me, I'll be thinking of you, okay?" The rest of the guys were getting impatient, except for Donut, who was watching their discussion like a reality TV show. But Caboose was pulling on Grif's free arm.

"Come on, Mr. Lemonhead! Church says we need to leave!"

Donut, as her best friend, placed his arms around Nicole's shoulders and quietly started comforting her as he slowly led her down the ramp. "Did you know that, according to this month's _People_, long distance relationship success rates have increased dramatically since last month's edition? You'll see him again; don't worry. Everything will be fine."

They were being pulled apart. Their fingertips had lost contact. Nicole looked desperately over her shoulder, if only to see his face one last time. And when she did. . . The look on his face. . .

She pulled free of Donut's grasp as Grif pulled free of Caboose. They ran back into each other's arms, for one last hug, one last kiss. But they had to break apart again. And quickly. If Nicole didn't leave soon, she would be hiking the desert in darkness. The Gulchers could already see the teleporter beginning to dim as it lost power.

"Dexter, I love you. Don't you forget about me!"

"I love you too, Nicole. With all my heart. I promise I _will_ find you," he pulled away slightly and kissed her goodbye. He pushed her towards the ramp.

"Just stay in New York and I'll find you," Caboose was pulling him towards the teleporter again.

Nicole was on ground level, looking back up at him as he yelled his goodbyes. "I promise, Nicole! Don't let the bad guys find you before I do!"

Nicole jammed her helmet back on her head so he wouldn't see her tears.

"Remember our zombie plan!" Nicole began jogging backwards, so she was facing him, and blew him an air kiss before turning back towards the cliff.

Grif whispered under his breath, "I love you."

Nicole began to run and looked down at her pounding feet. She felt the tears on her cheeks. "I love you, Dexter," she mumbled, knowing he couldn't hear her.

* * *

Private Nicole Smith ran up the narrow path leading to the top of the Blood Gulch cliff. The sun was beginning to set. She looked down at the desolate canyon that had been her home for more than six months. The canyon where she'd found friendship. Where she'd learned to work under pressure. Where she'd learned to enjoy herself every once in awhile. Where she'd learned how to trust again. Where she'd fallen in love.

She looked at her home base, where she'd discovered a newfound respect for the Oreo. She saw the vegetable garden she had helped weed a thousand times. She saw the waving flag she had raised every morning. She saw the colored dots on top of the base disappear into the green glow.

Nicole watched as they left one by one. The brick red dot, the standard blue one, the maroon speck, and the cobalt blue. She watched the pink dot sit down next to Sheila. Finally, only the orange soldier was left.

He hesitated, and Nicole would've sworn that Dexter looked back at her before leaping into the unknown.

Nicole turned, and began jogging into her own unknown. A new chapter in her life. All she could do was hope.


End file.
